


Limerence.

by nazzius



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Jaebum / Mark childhood friends, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, i dont know engrish im sorry, idk whats this, rich son Jinyoung
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23934811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nazzius/pseuds/nazzius
Summary: Jaebeom thought having a job and paying his bills was enough to be able to say he was "living".Jinyoung never wanted anything else than to run away from his life and be someone else.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Kudos: 10





	Limerence.

Usually things didn't go as we wanted them to. They twist, take unexpected turns, dance around you as if they were mocking you. And everything goes wrong. Somehow, with twenty-six years on his back, Jaebeom was an expert at the topic. Not because he wanted, of course, but because of a certain reason. Just one, that started every single other one since twenty-six years ago 'till the present day.

But there wasn't any point in thinking about that. For the third time in five minutes, Jaebeom ran his hands over his face and put his hair back, sighing tiredly. He didn't have time even for that. He got up with a jump trying not to thwart the sheets too much and went straight to the bathroom, yawning lazily. To be honest, he was fed up with his daily routine, but he was far away from being able to change it. No divine being was going to appear right in front of him to solve his life, so there was no point in thinking about it. He raised a brow, looking at himself in the mirror with his hands on the sink and a crafty smile in his face. It was funny to think that among all the things that came around his head in a day, only two or three were worth to stay there. It was worthless worrying about the other ones, knowing that, realistically, he couldn't fix them in his actual situation. And as it seemed as if that situation was going to follow him for life, case closed.

... Or at least those were his thoughts until his workday started.

“The business WHAT!?”

“Easy, Jb. It's not the end of the world, they just… bought the café.” Mark wasn't sure about how to tell the news to his pal, so he simply choose the direct way. Although he supposed Jaebeom was going to freak out, and he wasn't wrong.

“Dude. Who would ever want to buy this? And why precisely now?” He ran his hands by his hair repeatedly, going around the small table in the center of the small room for employees at the bottom of the café. He wasn’t sure of how to handle that information nor what he should do with it, but the thought of the new owner closing the café or firing them was enough to make him shake.

“Take a breath and let me finish” Mark sighed slowly, rubbing his nape softly. “Yeah, they bought the premises, but they won't do anything new nor firing us. It is just a... owner change, yeah.” Jaebeom looked at his friend as if he was seeing an angel, stopping suddenly his errant walk to grab his shoulders and look at him fixedly.

“Mark? Are you sure they are not firing us?” Although the sudden grab -and the unnecessary force it came with it, Mark nodded slightly twice hoping that that way it was clear to the tallest that neither his future or his salary was at risk. He sighed caressing his shoulder when Jaebeom let him go, shaking his head in disbelieve.  
“Dude, I still don't get why you are so strong when all the exercise you do is putting coffee sacks in here...”

“I would say it's the genes, but I guess we’ll never know.” With an ironic smile, Jaebeom finished putting in the uniform shirt and tied up the apron tightly, going out of the employee's room to open the café. Mark watched him getting out, with a worried look in his eyes. He was sure Jaebeom wasn't over that thing, even if the brown-haired persisted in the opposite. But he wasn't the one going to inquire in that matter, oh hell no. He finished tying his apron and left the room behind him, willing to face another long and boring day.

Sighing with apathy, Jaebeom finished placing the three tables that belonged outside the café with their respective chairs and got inside again to help Mark get the till ready. He wasn't sure about how to take the fact that the café had been sold, but if both could keep their job then it was ok. In any case, he was curious about who thought that buying a small café in one of the most irrelevant quarters in Seoul was a great idea. Now that was a mystery.

Shortly after both heard the horn corresponding to the cargo truck, and Mark immediately rushed to the back of the store to pick up the load. Usually, it was Jaebeom who did that, but the redhead wanted to check if that was really what made his pal have such strength. Amused by his reasons, Jaebeom started to hum while getting everything ready behind the bar, not expecting customers until further in the morning.

That's why he allowed himself to sing a bit higher, not hearing the sound of the door's small bell as it opened slowly.

***

If someone asked Park Jinyoung what he hated the most in this world, the answer would be a long list. But among the first’s places would be accepting orders from his father. Especially if they were related to work.

It had never been his intention to join his progenitor’s business, not even close. He wasn’t attracted even an inch to Mr. Park’s business field of specialization, and his plans for the future had been very far away from it. But things get twisted. Sometimes too much. Maybe one day we would be able to take his path and get rid of his father, but for the moment that was not going to happen. So, at that dead-end, his best option was being the ideal son. The better he did things, the less pain he would get. Simple plan: don’t give trouble if you don’t want trouble. He learned quickly to shut it and obey, without ever forgetting. He graduated with the best grades in high school, and it never changed at university: business administration and management with cum laude certification. He was, probably, the son any father would dream with; he had no problem with his father showing off his grades and academic achievements, which would soon become occupational. What made him sick was when his father referred to him as the “perfect” son. He always felt like throwing up.

Jinyoung knew and had always known that no matter how much “perfect” he was called, he had never been —nor would be, the favorite son.

Anyways it had been years since he stopped thinking about the issue. Taking a sip from his coffee, he checked his wristwatch to make sure he hadn’t messed up his schedule and with a smooth gesture got his car keys from the pocket of his pants. A “click” unblocked the car open as he threw the empty cup in the nearest bin, entering then the vehicle with a graceful slide. Every single person that had met the older of the Park brothers knew that, even when both of them were incredibly attractive, he had some special elegance. A grace that made every move part of some kind of dance that never had more steps than needed. Jinyoung wasn’t conscious of this despise knowing he was good looking. However, he was sure it was something attached to the physical realm because inside he felt ready to receive death’s sweet embrace. 

He drove lightly and without background music to the direction his father addressed him in one of his usually cold emails. It bothered him that he was the one having to go instead of any of their employees, whose job was checking on the new properties. That was probably what he hated the most about working with his father. He should be able to do all of his work from his office or apartment, but then he had to send him to do fieldwork. And Jinyoung just hated it. 

Without even realizing it he looked sideways to the car radio for the third time since he started the route. It somehow grew up to be a tradition, fighting the temptation of how easy would it be to turn it on just by reaching out a little. He shook his head lightly and stepped on the accelerator, hoping to finish that errand as quickly as possible.  
Fifteen minutes later he walked with security through the alleys of a suburb he didn’t know. He did know, however, where he was going despise never had gone there and after turning on a few corners he arrived at the indicated one. Jinyoung checked again his clock, noticing with surprise that the café was open at such an early hour. He also noticed that on the other side of the entrance a slim man talked with the cargo driver. Judging only by his clothes, Jinyoung guessed he was one of the employees his father mentioned in his email. As he approached the entrance, without reaching out his hand to open the door yet, he observed through the glazed door another man, close to his height and with his back towards him. That should be the other one. He masked himself with a relaxed expression and slipped in one of his favorite roles: the twenty-year relaxed boy who only wanted a good place to read. Jinyoung took on a gentle smile and opened the café’s door. 

A well-known song pierced him with force within seconds, making him stood in the entrance for a moment with his brow tightened in surprise, his sight nailed in the waiter’s back. He was slowly swinging to the melody while organizing something Jinyoung couldn’t get to see. Not that it mattered anyway, because he couldn’t exactly see anything at that moment. All his senses were into the song. 

Or, concretely, in that brown-haired man's voice.

“There’s no reason to hide what we’re feeling inside right now~”

Versace on the floor was without a doubt a familiar song to Jinyoung, and he could say it was easily one of his favorite among Bruno Mars’s. But the last thing he expected that morning was encountering a waiter hitting that high note in his new café. Jinyoung cleared his throat and forced himself to get it together, walking then towards one of the sofas with low tables at the end of the establishment. He was not noticed, so he wanted to test how much would the singing man take to notice a customer. Even if he was way more focused in a voice that on his watch. 

“Versace on the floor!!” Yelled suddenly the red-haired man who minutes ago was outside the café, catching Jinyoung by surprise not only because of the appearance but because of his deep voice. The other waiter, however, seemed way used to living that daily as he only faced towards the smaller man and just smiled sideways, closing the till and still swinging slightly to the tune.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! This is my first time publishing a work like this, so I'm both very excited and scared. I have a big overall idea of whats the storyline, so I hope I can keep up with the fic as I have planned! ^^ 
> 
> I hope you like it, and please know that any type of comment or opinion is appreciated!  
> You can find me on twitter (@nxzzius).~ 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading.


End file.
